Matrons of Mischief
by Clementine Mack
Summary: What happens at the end of the school year when all the students leave Hogwarts? Amusement ensues when three professors, Professor McGonagall, Sprout and Madam Hooch, become the matrons of mischief for one evening. Oneshot, complete.


**Author's Note:** This was just a quite light-hearted oneshot I wanted to do and an excuse to write about the lives of Hogwarts professors when the students are not around. After a year of teaching the likes of Fred and George I imagine they let their hair down to celebrate. ;) I actually have been mulling over the idea of doing a series of one shot fics each centered on a staff member of Hogwarts and their private lives because they really fascinate me.

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 **The Matrons of Mischief**

When Minerva McGonagall walked into the professor's lounge she was relieved to find two familiar women already sitting on the nearby couch. Pomona Sprout and Rolanda Hooch had become her friends over their tenure at Hogwarts and they were welcome company after a long wearisome day.

"Oh my, Minerva you look so tired dear," Pomona said. "Here I saved you a cup of tea," she offered and poured her some tea as Minerva took a seat in the armchair across from them.

"Thank you," she said with an exasperated sigh. "The Weasley twins were at it again."

And that was all she needed to say for the other two to wince, nodding in unison, as they understood the weight of that sentence. "Say no more," Rolanda said as she retrieved a flask from the inside pocket of her robe.

"Rolanda, you cannot be serious," McGonagall feigned disapproval but she didn't stop the Quidditch coach from pouring some of the contents into her drink. It was the final day of the semester; all the students had gone home for the summer holidays. Save but the sounds of portraits murmuring, a few professors staying behind and Peeves cackling somewhere in the hallways, they were mostly alone. McGonagall was expecting the sharp burn of firewhiskey but was surprised by the taste of caramel and honey when she put the drink to her lips.

"I'll have a bit of that as well if you don't mind," Pomona said and the other witch passed her the flask. Sprout was generous with her sampling. As it turned out, she had taught a class with the Weasley twins earlier in the week—she had yet to get the smell of their stink bombs out of the greenhouse.

"It could have been worse," Rolanda offered. "Do you know how hard it is to break up a fight on the quidditch field when you would much rather watch someone knock a little smarmy Slytherin kid down a peg?"

"Come now, they're _children,_ " Minerva reminded her.

"Oh I suppose, but you know as well as I that some of those _children_ are just bad apples." Rolanda shrugged as she took another swig. "Say, Pomona, how did your date go with Flitwick?"

Pomona's rosy cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. Well beyond her schoolgirl years, the gray-haired woman laughed as much a teenager talking about her crush. "Oh it was lovely, Filius is quite a gentleman."

"Did it end with a midnight stroll then? Snogging in the astronomy tower?" Rolanda asked, wiggling her eyebrows with a cheeky smile.

"Why I would never kiss and tell!" She fired back and all three witches began laughing. It wasn't long, perhaps a few more rounds of Rolanda's enchanted vodka, before the women forgot entirely the stresses of semester. Even Minerva, who was keen to keep her composure at all times, found she enjoying the chatter. She also realized…

"Ladies, I may have had a bit too much to drink," Minerva admitted which elicited some cackles from the other two women. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose but found her vision was still a little hazy.

"Well it looks like we are just about out," Rolanda said as she shook the remaining drops from her flask. This might have marked the end of their evening. Except Pomona had an idea.

"How many galleons do you want to bet that ol' grouch Filch has some in his office?" Pomona said.

"Oh you know he's confiscated his fair share of "contraband", probably enough to stock the three broomsticks," Minerva replied before she realized what the other two women were brainstorming.

"Then I say we go pay our _favorite_ caretaker's office a visit," Rolanda suggested. Both her and Pomona were quick to their feet; Minerva, however, hesitated. Even after having one too many round, she was not nearly as bold as her counterparts.

"Coming with us Minerva?" Rolanda called from the door.

"We might need your assistance distracting that blasted cat of his!" Pomona added.

 _Oh dear Merlin_ was the first thought that crossed her mind, which was followed by, _what have I gotten myself into this evening._ The Gryffindor matron considered herself well beyond her years for shenanigans but there was something about the delight of mischief that made her recall the young student that once roamed these halls. And with that she too went with them.

As it turned out distracting either Filch or his cat was unnecessary as the caretaker was nowhere to be seen when they got to his office. Minerva, in exasperation, agreed to be the lookout nonetheless. It wasn't long before the two professors returned with several bottles of goblin wine, giggling to themselves.

But no sooner were they down the hallway did they turn a corner and pause in their tracks as the gloomy figure of Severus Snape appeared before them.

" _Professors,"_ he greeted with a flat unimpressed tone.

Perhaps the most sober of the three, Minerva was quick to reply. She straightened her posture. "Hello Severus."

The witch saw his eyes flicker across the other two professors, noting their flush complexion. His gaze froze on the four bottles of wine between them. He didn't mask his disapproval and disgust.

"Plans for the evening?" Pomona asked out of awkward politeness. The wizard lifted a slender eyebrow. "We were just celebrating the end of the school year ourselves."

"Clearly," he said with unbridled disdain. "You will have to excuse me professors for some of us there is still work to be done and an image to uphold."

And without another word he disappeared down the hallway. There was a long pause of silence before Rolanda muttered under her breath, "what a git."

" _Rolanda_ ," Minerva chided.

The short-haired woman shrugged, "I call it as I see it. And he, my dear, is a raging git."

Pomona interjected, "Now, now we really shouldn't call our fellow professor names. But perhaps he needs a little reminder to lighten up once and awhile."

There was a flicker of mischief in her eyes as she smiled. Minerva looked mildly concerned, Rolanda merely grinned. "What did you have in mind Pomona?"

Three months later and the start of a new semester, school resumed as normal. However there was a slight incident in the Potions classroom that caused quite a stir that day. As tradition went for Severus Snape, he delighted in making an intimidating impression on his first-year students with a menacing speech and a display of his potion prowess. But to his embarrassment, something went awry with his elixir. When he took a sip to demonstrate, his voice came out as a high pitch squeak and a series of unintelligible quacks.

As it turns out when you exchange mandrake roots that were only aged for six months instead of nine, it has quite a harmless albeit humorous effect on one's potions.

A simple mistake, really. Perhaps Professor Snape simply miscalculated. What was certain though was it was nothing three distinguished Hogwarts matrons would know anything about. After all, they _did_ have an image to uphold.


End file.
